A World of his Own
by Lauriesf
Summary: What if storytelling was a power of its own? What if Henry's talent went well beyond his mere ability to make stories "come to life" on paper? A tribute to the Twilight Zone. 'Cos I was bored and had writer's block and this suddenly sprang to my mind. Rated T just to be on the safe side.


BT – A World of his Own

_What if storytelling was a power of its own? What if Henry's talent went well beyond his mere ability to make stories "come to life" on paper? A tribute to the Twilight Zone._

_'Cos I was bored and had writer's block and this suddenly sprang to my mind._

"Vicki? Henry's on the phone... It seems pretty urgent!" She's having her usual twenty-minute nap before Henry is supposed to drop by after touring his favorite clubs full of hotties. She lifts her head from the couch and looks at her assistant, her mind trying to reconnect with reality after being so unexpectedly interrupted. She was having the most wonderful dream in which she and said vampire were taking a walk on the beach in the moonlight. Her vision is fuzzy and she only sees Coreen's vague outline in the door frame. She fumbles for her glasses and puts them on, then trains her inquisitive gaze on the goth girl.

"Uh?" she asks not too brightly.

"Henry. Vampire. On the phone," Coreen mocks her.

"OK," she groans and walks to her desk. "Hey, hi, Henry. Have already grabbed a bite?" she can't help teasing him, tho' in a groggy, still half-asleep voice.

"Vicki, as much as I'd love to banter with you about that favorite subject of yours, I'm afraid we have more urgent matters to attend to..." he tells her, an edge of worry to his voice.

She rounds her desk and sits straight in her chair, her mind fully alert now. He has her undivided attention. "I'm listening. Go ahead," she tells him.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'd prefer you came to my place. It's not something I can explain..." He hesitates for a second and that in itself is disturbing. Self-confident Henry never hesitates. "It's rather something I should show you."

"Huh, huh... Why? I mean you could describe it to me, couldn't you? I'm waiting for a client here, see," she counters.

"Vicki, I wouldn't have called you were it not of the utmost importance. Would you please reconsider?" He seems insistent and worried enough that she knows something must be terribly wrong.

"Are you hurt?" she suddenly worries.

"No, Victoria, I assure you I'm fine. Now, please, will you come?"

"On my way, Henry," she says before hanging and grabbing her jacket.

"Coreen, reschedule my appointment," she tells her assitant before heading for the door.

"And what if it's too late to do so?" Coreen asks her.

"Well, then, too bad but Henry can't wait," Vicki hurriedly tells her and leaves, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

Coreen shakes her head and rolls her eyes as she looks for the client's phone number. "Henry calls and you come running!" she snorts mischievously. "Now, if that's not love, I don't know what it is!" She chuckles. If Vicki were still there and had overheard her, she'd get slugged for that one.

_Henry's condo_

He opens the door before she's had time to knock, which really pisses her off.

"Can't you at least act like a normal person," she snaps and then scowls.

He ignores her remark and lets her in with a "good evening to you too, Victoria," which only achieves in infuriating her even more. "If you say so," she replies curtly and plops down on his couch.

He breathes in and knows he's going to regret it but asks anyway: "Any problem I might help you with?" He's leaning towards her with both hands on each side of her head, his face dangerously close to hers, his lips hovering over her own and grins playfully.

She scowls and pushes him back with one hand on his chest. "Don't get into my private space, Hank!"

He doesn't budge, except for his lips which ghost her cheek and stop at her ear as he whispers: "What are you going to do to me, Vic'? Arrest me? I've got handcuffs in my bedroom that I can lend you if you want..."

She blushes at the sexual innuendo then whispers back: "Tease."

That makes him shiver – her warm breath on his skin, the low sexy voice she's used to say it. He pushes away from the couch then sits down next to her, his arm resting on the back of the couch just behind her shoulders.

"You never give up, do you?" she scowls.

He absent-mindfully starts playing with a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger and she shudders at his touch.

"Henry? What was so urgent that I had to leave my office in a hurry and probably lose a potential client?" She's kept her voice low and trained but he can hear a hint of exasperation in it. "Didn't you have something to show me?" she adds, trying to keep her mind off his ministrations to her hair and the closeness of his body.

His hand moves to her neck and comes to rest at its nape. His touch is cool and soft and she starts wondering if this was not a trap to get her here, next to him on his couch. Tonight, tho', she doesn't mind that much. She feels like giving in just because she's tired of fighting him all the time. But then, she knows nothing good would come out of it. If they go down that road... _Focus, Vicki, damn it!_

"Henry!" she scolds.

"I just didn't want to disturb you yet by answering your question," he says innocently and removes his hand. "You seemed to be in the middle of something," he adds wickedly, knowing fully well he has distracted her. He gives her a fey smile and seeing her gaze turn dark, plods on.

"All right, back to PI business, I see. So, it's not something I have to show you..." She quirks an eyebrow. "It's someone."

"Okay," she drawls, waiting for him to elaborate.

"She's in my bedroom," he adds and stands.

"Henry!" she explodes. So like him to pull that kind of trick on her! "What did you do this time?" she demands. "Is she even alive?"

"Depends..." he replies, wincing.

She stands and folds her arms, clearly aggravated.

"Henry!" she repeats, a dangerous edge to her voice now.

He shrugs. "Don't chide me, Vic'. I know it's all my fault...somehow." He winces. "I don't know how this could happen..." His voice trails off as his hand rests on the door handle. "Now, bear in mind I meant no harm, Victoria," he tells her then takes a deep breath and opens the door. Vicki steps inside and...pauses. Her eyes seem to bulge out of her eyes as in some looney toon. She gapes then closes her mouth and turns to Henry, a murderous look turning her clear blue-green eyes to dark, stormy blue. She stomps her foot in exasperation. "Henry! How dare you?" she yells at him and he takes a step back, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

"Excuse me?" The voice is eerily familiar and totally pissed. They both turn to the not so stranger standing in the middle of Henry's bedroom. "How come there's someone looking just like me here?" The voice is high-pitched and the stranger's anger is quite palpable from the way her jaw is set and her eyes have turned into daggers. Vicki still can't believe her eyes. She's looking at her identical twin. Henry is looking from one to the other, glad they're no dressed the same or he wouldn't be able to tell one from the other. Actually, he's glad he's written her with that nice hooded sweater of hers instead of her favorite jacket she's wearing today...

"Henry? What did you do?" he hears the real Vicki growl next to him. He looks at her, begging for her mercy, but she doesn't relent. "Explain!"

"Yes, explain!" the other Vicki snaps at him too, the same threatening look in her eyes.

He lifts his forefinger then points at her. "You at least I can command so you will stay here while I talk to Victoria, OK?" She scowls but, to Vicki's amazement, obediently sits on the edge of the bed and sulks.

"What the...?" Vicki starts saying only to be interrupted by Henry who holds up his hand.

"Don't! I hate it when your language goes down the sewers," he tells her sharply. He turns to the door and motions for her to follow him. When she's stepped inside his living-room, he closes the French windows to his bedroom behind him.

"Sit down, Victoria," he says, sitting in one of the armchairs.

"Hey!" she protests. "You can't order me around, your Highness."

"Too bad I can't," he mutters.

She glares at him."Apparently you can, with that other one," she points out wickedly.

He briefly closes his eyes and sighs. "Vicki, please, stop scowling and come and sit with me. This is what I so desperately needed to talk to you about."

She approaches him. "I bet you do. How long has this been going on? When were you going to tell me, uh?" she accuses him.

"It happened tonight," he says and feels relieved to see her finally sit on the coffee table in front of him.

"Go on," she says.

"I woke up and decided against going out before coming to see you. I had a couple of hours ahead of me and I needed to write the script for my new story as I had fallen behind. So I decided to work on it a little. I started typing ideas and suddenly she appeared by my side – out of nowhere. She scared the hell out of me..."

His voice trails off and she understands he's reminiscing the moment, trying to grasp the meaning of all this."Didn't you think it was me and I had arrived earlier?" she suggests.

"No, Vic'. Even when you think you've surprised me, you never do. I know you're there well before I see you. I can pick up your scent as soon as you enter my apartment building," he elaborates tho' he knows she's gonna be royally pissed to realize he's only humored her all those times.

"Okay," she says, checking her temper. "We'll get back to that later on. Make no mistake," she warns him and pats his knee. He winces. He's gonna pay big time for that too. "So, she suddenly appeared by your side and you don't know where she came from? Is that correct?" she proceeds, her mind now on full PI mode.

"That's right. I swear, Vicki. I don't know what happened." He looks at her desperately.

"Did you interrogate her?"

"I tried." He sounds hesitant.

"Did you or did you not?" She's aggravated. It appears that it's going to be a long night and she has no patience for guessing games.

"She seemed to have her mind set on other things, if you see what I mean. I did everything I could to get answers from her but she kept saying there were more urgent things to attend to and we'd have all the time in the world for questions later on." He makes a face and waits for the meaning of all this to sink in. Vicki's eyes get wider as she puts two and two together.

"She's made a pass at you?!" He just nods. She starts laughing. "Oh come on, Henry! Can't you find some other excuse? Obviously, she's my identical twin down to her temper. Don't make me think she cannot resist you!" she mocks him. He's fuming. How can she not believe him? He's spent the last couples of hours fighting the other Vicki's advances and his own instinct to give in. The other Vicki is so willing and he's wanted his Vicki for so long and she's refused him so many times! How is a man supposed to refuse getting what he's wanted so much, tho' he well knows she's only a copy?

He stands abruptly and grabbing her by the hand not too gently, leads her to his bedroom and motions to the other girl to come to him. She stands, a sexy smile on her lips and struts to him in a most enticing way. "Hey, welcome back, my Lord. Changed your mind?" she gushes, winking at him and molding her body against his, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him full on the lips.

Vicki is so taken aback she doesn't react at first. It is so weird to see oneself doing what you've spent hours dreaming of and thought would never happen.

Henry knows she needs the shock and decides to take the experiment a little further. He slides his hands round the other girl's waist and deepens the kiss she's initiated. Vicki glares at them. He's turned towards her and sees it. He gently entangles himself from the other girl's arms and waits for Vicki to say something. She doesn't. She's set her jaw and is fuming. He can see her wavering and wonders if she's going to slap him. Again, she doesn't. She walks to him and he's tempted to take a step back but doesn't. She grabs him by his shirt and pulls him towards her then gives him a die-for kiss. He's so amazed his hands remain at his side. He's closed his eyes and lets himself be kissed. He has never let any woman take the lead like this. It goes against his alpha male education but he doesn't give a damn.

The kiss ends too soon and he looks her in the eye, bewildered. She cocks her head to the side. "Now you've tasted both flavors, my Lord, which one do you prefer?"

He's regained his composure and looks down on her, his eyes locked with hers. "Definitely the latter, my Lady," he readily confesses.

"Good! Now, we've established that, can we move on to the matter at hand?" she asks him. He nods.

"Make no mistake tho', Victoria, you've opened doors I'm not willing to close..." he warns her, a hint of mischief in his voice as he wraps his arms around her waist.

They're both quite rudely interrupted by the other Vicki who's snapping her fingers impatiently. "Hey! I'm still right here, ya' know!"

Vicki glares at her and gets ready to snap back. Henry gently tightens his hold around her waist. "Please, Vicki, let me..." he says. She sighs and waves her approval. Henry walks to the other girl. He lays his hands on her shoulders and makes her turn round then marches her to his bedroom. "Now, young lady, humor me. Wait for me in there," he tells her.

"Again?!" She's indignant and stomps her foot. He looks her in the eye and quirks an eyebrow. She gives in. "All right," she reluctantly agrees. He rewards her with a caress on her cheek and closes the doors.

Vicki is in the kitchen, fixing herself some coffee. He joins her there. "It's going to be a long night," she sighs and takes a sip at the scalding liquid.

"Want me to call for food?" he offers.

"Nope, I'm good. Can't eat right now. I need to focus." She walks to his work area and looks at his sketches. She ruffles through them and waves a couple of them at him. "Care to explain why I'm in most of those drawings?" she accuses him.

"Oh, come on, Vic', you know you've become one of my favorite subjects." He moves towards her, switches on his computer and opens the file for his scripts. He prints it and hands it to her. She briefly scans the script and looks at him. "She talks like me, looks like me, it's eery. You captured me in a way... She feels so real, even on paper..." Her voice trails off.

"I described you as best I could," he confesses.

"Had it ever happened before?" He quirks an eyebrow. "With other characters, I mean," she elaborates.

"No, not even when I got inspired by people I had known. But then, I had never put so much work and faith in one single character..." He knows he's treading on shaky ground.

"So it's your fault," she states.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. "God, you're infuriating," he says, aggravated.

"Well, I'm just putting two and two together..." she answers wickedly. "What else could there be tho' the idea of you being able to really create a real person is totally, totally preposterous." She snorts and folds her arms on her chest.

"I don't know... dark magic?" he offers.

She throws her hands above her head in exasperation. "Come on! You have to stop this, Henry. Not everything has to do with the dark arts," she chides him.

"Vic'," he begs.

She sighs. "Alright," she concedes. "I'm calling Coreen." She fills her assitant in briefly then hangs up. "She's on it and will get back to us if she finds anything."

"Thank you, Vicki." He smiles at her.

"You're most welcome, your Grace." She smiles back.

She takes her cup of coffee and goes to settle on his couch. He joins her and sits next to her, his arm resting on the back of the sofa behind her.

"Are you pissed, Vicki?" he suddenly asks after a few minutes of quiet, comfortable silence. She is looking in the distance through his window panes at the night and the city lights.

"Actually, no, I'm not...yet." He plays with a strand of her hair – again. "But I'd like to understand something," she muses.

"Yes, Vic'..." he prompts her.

"If you are indeed somehow responsible for that double of mine out there," she points to his bedroom. "How come you've made her so much like me? The same hair, make up, clothes... And the personality too! I thought you were an artist, Henry." He breathes out, anger flaring. She lifts her hand and lays it on his knee. "Sorry. It's not what I meant," she apologizes. He feels the warmth of her hand on his knee, through the fabric of his jeans, and that alone has already calmed him down. He nods for her to go on. "I meant, normally, authors take the reality and twist it into their own – to their convenience. She – on the contrary – is exactly me, except for the mushy attitude, of course."

"Of course," he chuckles.

"Why, Henry?" she demands. Her inquisitive look locks with his clear blue gaze. He looks sheepish. "Henry?" she prompts, aggravated. He licks his lips, trying to decide if it's such a good idea to tell her his theory.

"OK," he finally relents. "I told you I was trying to finish that story. I was overdue and really focused on finishing it. The drawings were almost done. Only the inking remained and the dialogues. I was polishing it all but was stuck on the dialogues so I basically thought about real situations I'd been in with you and suddenly, I was not typing lines for the script. I was writing about you. I thought if I could picture you, it's be easier to get the right words, you see..." He almost fumbles for words. It's so difficult – that feeling he had when he started writing tonight about her, about her essence, what and who she really is. Of course, he can picture her like no other can – his Vicki! But that he cannot tell her.

"Ya' know, Hank, for someone so articulate and educated, you're sure doing a lousy job of describing what happened to you," she points out.

"Yeah, well, I don't get it myself so how can I account for it?" he apologizes.

"Alright, alright. Let's try and make sense of all this. Let me get that straight. The script you showed me... that's not all there is, right?" He nods. She holds out her hand to him and motions impatiently. "Give it to me," she demands.

He sighs and gets up then walks to his work station and walks back to her. He hands her the paper. She grabs it and reads it carefully. It seems her very soul has been captured on this single piece of paper.

Her phone rings and she picks it up impatiently. "Yes," she barks. It's Coreen. She tells her she's at Dr Segara's office. They've leafed through a lot of old books. "We've perused everything she's got about doubles, clones, doppelgangers... I'm sorry to tell you that right now, we're empty-handed."

Vicki has put her phone on loud speaker and sees Henry wince in embarrassment.

"Well, you don't have anything but we certainly do," Vicki tells her assitant. On the other side of the line, Coreen has put her phone on loud speaker too and Bettie is now listening intently. Vicki fills them in on Henry's recent work. "It's like some Writer's Guide for a show," she concludes. "Everything is in there – the do's and don'ts as well as the character's traits to its utmost and disturbing details?" She glances at Henry and he sees her dirty look. "I hate you," she mouthes.

"I love you too," he replies in the same way, giving her a fey smile. She tries to slap his arm but he is faster and grabs her hand then drops a kiss on the back of it. He keeps her hand in his.

"What do you make of it, Bettie?" he asks.

"I might be wrong and I still have to check this but I'd say this looks like white magic – the sort ancient and powerful witches used for casting spells. You write the formula, recite it, like an incantation. You create a doppelganger of someone you know to protect that person, most of the time."

Vicki glances at Henry. "Did you want to protect me, Fitzroy?" she demands. Bettie interrupts her. "It's not always the case, Miss Nelson. Sometimes it can be more selfish, like say, a witch feels lonely and wants the company of someone she has lost..."

Bettie knows it is obviously the case here. She's seen Henry's longing for the PI.

Vicki shakes Henry's hand off, stands and glares at him, her hands on her hips. "Is that the real reason?"

"Listen you two," Coreen interrupts her, "you seem to have a lot to say to each other..."

"You betcha," Vicki replies, still glaring at Henry. If looks could kill...

"...and we have some checking to do. We'll call you back as soon as we have a solution to Henry's dirty little secret."

Coreen hangs up. Vicki turns her back on Henry and walks to the front door. She grabs her jacket and gets ready to leave. He's suddenly by her side, worry furrowing his eyebrows.

"Vicki, please, don't leave," he pleads.

"Why? You don't need me anymore. Coreen will fill you in on what to do once they've figured it out and if you're bored, your Highness, and need some company, there's mushy me in your bedroom, remember?" she answers nastily.

He closes his eyes and gulps. That was a nasty blow but he knows he deserves it.

"I understand." His voice is low ans strained. He looks her in the eye. "But I meant no harm and I certainly didn't do it on purpose," he points out.

She wavers. She wants to get the hell out of there. The situation is too creepy for her. She's always managed to keep him at arms' length, that is, until now and this is much too personal. On the other hand, something has definitely changed. She used to think he was only using his charm on her out of habit – because he does it with all the women around him. He's a womanizer – a ladies' man. That's what he does best in his life – have the girls swooning over him, one new conquest almost every night. And she has decided from the very start that tho' she cannot ignore the effect he has on her, she'll not join the endless list of his many conquests. Tonight, tho', reading that paper, something has ticked in her. She's got the uncomfortable feeling there's more to it. She realizes he's become obsessed with her. Now, that unsettles her. Yes, he stalks her most of the time, appearing out of thin air when she doesn't expect him, knowing things about her, looming over her, always so close she's come to feel the aching void of his absence when he's not around, even if she doesn't want to admit it. But that is different. She thought he was just pining for her because she was the one who was resisting her. Clearly there's more to it and her over analytic mind – but her heart too – doesn't want to let go. She has to know.

"Please, stay," he whispers. She sees his almost puppy look and her heart falters. But she must know. She pushes him to his limits. "Why, Henry?" she repeats. She motions with her thumb towards his bedroom. "You've got her..."

He interrupts her and confesses, his hand pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear: "She's not you. No one is like you, not even her." She suddenly feels very warm inside – the rush of affection for him filling her every limb. Silence settles between them. He's still fiddling with her hair, his hand brushing her skin in a most distracting way, their eyes locked. She can see he's waiting for an answer, some kind of reaction. She knows about his ability to feel things well beyond the one of a mere human and he must hear her blood rushing through her veins and know her temperature has risen. "Please, Victoria, have mercy on me. Say something," he begs her.

Her hands are at her side. She's not touching him and he craves for her touch. She's built walls around her so high that he fears she'll never let him in, especially after what he's confessed.

"There's one more thing I'd like to know, Henry." She feels cruel for not relenting but she has to be sure. He nods, his heart faltering. She just wants to understand, settle things, not connect to him – think, analyze, not feel... as always.

"You're not a witch. You don't recite incantations. Actually, you abhor magic. So why were you able to create her?" she wonders.

"You want the truth?" He knows for sure something has changed between them. She always tries to sidestep that kind of conversation, making sure he'll not corner her. But not now.

"Because I was so lonely without you." She gasps at the confession. This is love he's talking about, not physical longing, and that's clearly too much for her. He hears the blood pounding in her heart. He knows that being truthful, being the first to confess his love, may well alter their relation for the worst. _She's going to run and hide once she realizes what I've just confessed._

Her phone rings, saving her from answering. "Vicki, Betty's found it in an old grimoire. It's definitely white magic." Coreen sounds very excited.

"Cool down, goth girl! Is there anything in it about what ingredients you need to create and uncreate it? There's got to be a counter spell, right?" Vicki worries.

Henry's listening as well tho' he's dropped his hand from her hair and is now standing a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You're not gonna like it, Vicki..." Coreen hesitates. She knows how Vicki hates being cornered into admitting her feelings and Henry's.

"Oh, come on!" Vicki snaps. "I don't have all night. For God's sake, spill it out!"

She hears her assitant breathe out in exasperation.

"It's love, Vicki. The ingredient is love. That's what triggers the spell." She cringes and waits.

Henry has raised his head and is looking at Vicki intently. She looks back at him, her jaw set. "How do we undo it?" she plods on, ignoring his pleading look and the butterflies in her stomach.

"You don't undo love, Miss Nelson," she hears Bettie tell her calmly. "But Henry can undo the spell. He just needs to throw the accursed paper in the fire."

"That's all?" She can't believe her ears. "What's the catch?"

"There's none. As I said, he burns the paper to ashes, the double disappears. End of the story."

"Alright then. Well, thank you both. We'll keep you posted when it's done," she replies before ending the call.

She looks at Henry, grabs the paper and hands it to him, not once looking away. Her gaze is bluer, more intense, her breathing uneven. His own clear blue eyes are the color of a glacier and they're shimmering with unshed tears. She seems so cold and determined, as if all this meant nothing.

He takes the paper but stands there. She gets fidgety. "Well? Are you going to burn it or not?" she snaps.

"Are we going to talk about this, Victoria?"

"Dunno," she snaps back, aggravated. "Why should we? We have the solution. End of the story, as your dear friend said," she sniggers.

He gives her a pained look. "You'll never let me in, right?" he demands.

She cocks her head to the side and glares at him. "I don't know what this has to do with mushy-me!"

He schools himself not to explode. "It has everything to do with her actually. Am I gonna burn the paper?" he repeats her question, tilting his head to the side, mimicking her earlier stance. "See, I'm not so sure. Why should I? Bettie said it herself. Your double was created because I'm too lonely and miserable without you. If I uncreate her, I'll still be lonely and miserable because you'll never allow me near your heart. So why shouldn't I keep her after all? She's not hurting anybody..."

He has never spoken so much about his feelings for her. Wooing her, yes, trying to put her under his spell, definitely, telling her about could-bes and should-bes and trying to convince her to give herself to passion, most certainly. But never before had he talked about love.

"Because it's wrong, Henry," she lectures him.

"It's never wrong, Victoria, to want tenderness and connect to someone," he counters.

The tears brimming at his eyes are threatening to fall and her heart goes out to him. She remembers the conversations they've had about his long and yes, lonely life. He did hint so many times about how desperate he's been to find that connection with someone.

"It wouldn't be love, Henry," she whispers, her hand coming to rest on his cheek and he gasps at the unexpected caress. "She would do it to please you, because you created her to please you, do your bidding..."

He leans his head into her touch. "At least, it would be something," he confesses.

She lets her hand drop and walks to his bay windows. With RP, she cannot even make out the lights of the city. Everything is in a blur at best but she always finds it soothing, to look at the darkness of the night. She takes a deep breath and turns towards him. He hasn't moved an inch. She holds out her hand to him and smiles. He walks to her briskly and takes her hand, his thumb caressing her knuckles.

"If I agree to let you in a little, will you reconsider your decision?" she offers. Her heart is beating fast. It's a leap of faith for her, even if she knows he's gonna say it's not enough for him.

He furrows his eyebrows. "Are you that desperate to see her gone, Vicki? She's no threat to you or anyone, for that matter."

She regards him and remains silent for what seems to him like an eternity.

"She is to me," she finally states, looking into his eyes.

"How so?" he prods.

"I... I'd be jealous of the time you spend with her. If she stays, Henry, soon, there'll be no movie nights, no conversations on the balcony, no star-gazing..." she confesses.

"And no helping you with your cases? 'Cos, I presume this is why you're so worried... That I'm only helping you to spend time with you and that if I have you for free, I won't help you anymore?" He's raised his voice and dropped her hand.

She gently takes his again and squeezes it. "That's not what I meant, Henry. I can afford to lose your help, not your friendship," she admits.

He pushes her hand away. "Friendship, Vicki!" he growls, hurt by yet another hasty retreat of hers.

"Friendship," she repeats, making air quotes. She sees the shadow of a smile – finally. "Baby steps," she adds hurriedly.

He's grinning now. "Of course," he replies, taking her hand in his and kissing the tip of her nose. "Whatever you want, Ma'am."

_A week later_

Bettie has dropped by at Vicki's office. She's taken a liking to the young goth and is coming to lend her some books and check on Henry. Coreen assures her everything is back to normal. Nothing's amiss, the doppelganger seems to be gone for good.

They hear laughter coming from the corridor and the door flies open. Henry and Vicki enter the room, their arms around each other's waist and stop dead at the look of utter bewilderment on Bettie's face. Henry drops his hand and walks briskly to her, kissing her cheek. He looks worried. "Is anything the matter, my friend?"

"Oh, no, no, my dear. Everything's perfectly fine. I'm just...let's say, surprised, to say the least." She turns to Coreen. "Didn't you say they had agreed on baby steps," she teases.

Coreen shrugs. "Well, Vicki knows nothing about babies so that would explain a lot, I guess," the goth replies playfully.

"We're still here, ya' know," Vicki groans in mock exasperation.

Henry wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her gently towards her office. "Let them talk, Victoria," he whispers in her ear and nibbles at the soft spot under her ear that he's just learned makes her shiver and giggle. "We've still got plenty of baby steps to take until morning comes."

THE END


End file.
